“Sewing is best done by someone who knows a needle from a thimble. Me, I was always an ‘off the rack’ girl.”
Meggie frowned in confusion, and Cat waved away the comment. “No matter, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Why did your mother neglect to teach you a skill that every girl child must learn?”
Meggie was so sincerely perplexed that Cat felt she should make an attempt to explain.
“My mother died when I was young. I was cared for by my father, and he cared not if I mastered these tasks.”
Meggie shook her head as if baffled. “Isnae just the weaving to be done. A lady must do a great deal of mending for those in her keep. My mother and father were so poor, I had to learn as a wee girl how to sew and cook.”
Meggie winked at Cat. “I have seen your struggles in the kitchens.”
“Aye, but Edna has done her best to help me, and I am trying very hard to learn.”
Meggie shook her head and laughed, a pretty, lyrical sound. “It matters not, lady. Ye are a fine hunter, I hear, with a bow.”
Cat was curious. “Someone has spoken of it?”
“Aye. Cameron. And Edna remarks that when ye go hunting, she is safe to plan for a pot of birds to cook, for ye are near always abundant with them when ye return. I wouldnae fret, the keep has many hands to cook.”
Cat sighed. “Aye, now if I could just master this needle as well as I have my bow.”
Meggie reached out and took her piece of cloth and began to sew where Cat had stitched. “Try working slower. Fold the thread around this way and seek to work the stroke with a slower rhythm.”
Cat did her best to follow Meggie’s advice, and after a few minutes, though her stitches were not nearly as small and pretty as Meggie’s, she did a fair job.
“I’m so happy for you, Meggie. I know how much you want to marry Douglas,” Cat said.
“Aye, lady, I do. For my hope of that dream had all but died when Glyniss and I came here, and I truly didnae want to live without him. Father MacNair is a kind mon of God, and I know he will do his best, but I fear Douglas and I must leave for England. His father will never accept me.”
“But, why, Meggie? Is it merely the dowry of this Jane that Douglas spoke of?”
“Nay, though that is true in part. Laird Gordon had all but counted the gold in his coffers.
“I was a poor lass, my father and mother have little, and Douglas is his father’s only son. Oh, how a mon can hang many a hope on one child. ‘Twas as if Douglas had to be perfection in everything he did, right all his father’s wrongs. He tried so hard to be smarter, faster, and more agile than all the lads of the clan. Douglas did his best to please him, but our Laird would never sanction the likes of me for his only son.
“I have loved him for as long as I can remember. It is not merely the beauty of his face. ’Tis what is in his heart. Douglas is very patient and kind, just as your own husband has been to this clan. Sir Roderic is an outsider, however, and had I not been so heartsick, so uncaring of what went on about me, I would have been fearful to come here. I was e’en afraid of you, lady. For your father is …” Meggie stopped speaking, afraid to go on. Cat finished the thought for her.
“A cruel monster?”
Meggie, a look of compassion in her eyes, slowly nodded.
“Be at ease, Meggie. For I heartily agree with your assessment of my father’s character.”
“Glyniss, too, had doubts when we came here. Mayhap all of the clans dinnae want to believe that Sir Roderic, an Englishmon, could be kinder to these people than one to Scotland born. ’Tis true. They may fight the King’s decree to send him here, but it has been a fine thing, has it not, my lady?”
“Aye, Meggie, fine indeed.”
Chapter Fifteen
I have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come unto the marriage.
~Matthew 22:4
Meggie’s wedding day was cold and windy, though the sun shone brightly. Cat was happy that Roderic had given his soldiers his consent to take part in the festivities.
Father MacNair performed the ceremony, and the joy was evident in the young lovers, and when they kissed it brought a happy cheer from both men and women. The feast then began, and after everyone had eaten their fill, some in the clan came forth with treasured instruments for the music that was planned.
They danced, and Cat thoroughly enjoyed the celebrating. Douglas and Meggie taught them all a circle dance that was a favorite of his clan, and he led Meggie to the floor with pride in spite of the fact she was heavy with child.
The clan joined in the festivities, laughing for the first time in many a moon. The ale flowed, Cat enjoyed dancing with her husband, and Kenneth, although his method of dancing was to spin around with no aim to his movements, enjoyed himself as well. As she watched him, Cat relished his expression of pure joy.
While dancing with Roderic, she noted that Gavin had offered Glyniss his hand. They moved together with ease and grace, and the older woman’s smile indicated Gavin had charmed her. An hour later, Cat, exhausted after finding a drink of water at the feast table, sought out Glyniss. Eyes sparkling, she jested with Glyniss about being with Gavin.
Glyniss scoffed in response. “Women are to that one as strong drink is to others. I am not a babe as Meggie, to be swayed by his flashing green eyes and pretty smile. He wants under my skirts, but I mean to do nothing to muddle my hope of having a home here. I’ve grown to like your band of misfits, lady. Here it matters not that I dinnae belong, for all Sir Roderic’s followers are the same.”
“He has done a fine job of joining them. They have given him their loyalty,” Cat said.
“Aye, lady, to blend stubborn, clannish Scots for one purpose? And he be an Englishmon?” Glyniss snorted. “Fie! One day soon I look for him to take himself a hearty walk across the water of the sea!”
Cat laughed at the analogy. “Ah, Glyniss, how you delight me. I wish they all felt that way about Roderic. You would think they would all be here for the feast.”
“Ah, now, dinnae think it is only scorn for his command that has some of them staying away. They be vexed that Douglas and wee Meggie may bring them calamity. ’Tis little time they have had since Mackay, and they want no war with Gordon.”
“I hope you are right, Glyniss. He may not walk on water, but he wants the best for them all. Take care not to make such a jest again. If Father MacNair heard such talk, he would deem you blasphemous.”
“Aye, he true may admonish me, but the priest is a servant of God, just as I. And the Father of heaven’s light who gave me this gift of healin’ knows I mean no harm with my jests, and that I love Him with all my heart. Father MacNair is not a tyrant. Some priests rule the people with a harsh fist and would have flayed Douglas and Meggie in light of their sin, but MacNair sees himself as a servant to others. ’Tis a fine and happy day, lady.”
Roderic came to claim Cat for yet another dance, and she lost herself in the celebration of the day.
Father MacNair left for the Gordon holding and took several of Roderic’s soldiers with him. Roderic spoke to Cat of his mission.
“I pray Father MacNair can indeed find a hearing ear with the Gordon Laird, for Douglas has already petitioned me for a guard to take him and Meggie to England. He seems certain the man will not listen to the Father’s pleas.”
“Father MacNair has a noble goal because he wants peace. Maybe if the Laird is made to know he could lose Douglas, he will relent.”
“Aye, wife. We can but hope.”
“Roderic, did the wedding call to your mind our own wedding?”
“Aye, lass, and that you stood beside me with your sword strapped to your waist, completely terrified. You were afraid of me, yet you did not kiss me like an innocent.”
“I was innocent!” Cat was affronted. He smiled, lifting one haughty brow.
“I did not say you were not, merely that you kissed me as no virgin … would kiss.” She read the l
ook in his eyes; it was hot, dark, and sensual.
“Are you saying I was wanton, sir?” Cat said.
“Both wanton and innocent, a captivating blend of virtues for any woman. Now I will await and hope you contemplate the term ‘obey.’” He sighed, his eyes dancing. “Mayhap, one day you will study the meaning of the command.”
Cat growled, threw herself at Roderic, and tickled his middle, something she had found he was vulnerable to. He chuckled and wrestled with her in jest until he captured the offending fingers bedeviling his belly. Holding them in his hands, he wrapped her arm behind her when he bent his mouth to hers.
Cat was giggling as he kissed her. His lips feather-touched her with tantalizing persuasion, and she sighed.
Four days later, Meggie began her laboring. Roderic was awakened in the middle of the night when Cat left his bed at Glyniss’ urging. She went at once, and both women were sequestered in Meggie’s chamber the entire day.
Long past midday, Roderic knocked at the chamber door to check on the lass. Douglas paced, agitated, at times hearing the lass scream. It was difficult on them all, for it was plain the girl was in agony. Gavin gave Douglas a tankard of ale that he left untouched in front of him. It was as if Meggie’s pain were his own, and Roderic did not know how to comfort the lad.
Cat had never in her life prayed for anything as intently as she did for Meggie to give birth. The girl’s labor was heart-wrenching, and she grasped Cat’s hands until they were bruised and sore. Glyniss tied a long towel to the foot of the bed, and Meggie gripped it like a lifeline. The vicious pain tore at her young body until Cat wanted to weep, and still it went on through the night, early morning, and afternoon.
Edna brought up some food in the afternoon for Glyniss and Cat, but they ate little. The labor intensified, and Meggie became totally incapable of dealing with the wrenching pain. She screamed until she was hoarse, though Glyniss and Cat did everything they could to make her comfortable.
Cat stroked her brow and wiped the sweat from her body with a cold cloth, but she had never felt so inadequate in her life. The other birthing she had witnessed was nothing like this.
“Can’t we help her, give her something for the pain?”
Glyniss looked apprehensive, but then a look of resolve crossed her face. “Aye, and the devil with the Church if they don’t like it!”
“The Church?” Cat asked.
“They say ’Tis every woman’s pain she must suffer for Eve’s sins. Know ye not, that healers have been burned for helping women in their time?”
Meggie let out another agonized scream as the contraction gripped her body.
“Enough!” Glyniss said. Turning, she walked over to the table and grabbed her mortar and pestle. Glaring at Cat, she spoke urgently.
“Speak of this to no one. Ye have my life in your hands, lady, for if Father MacNair or the Church knows of what I do, I will die. Do ye understand?”
“Glyniss, you can’t think that I would cause trouble for you! Just help her!”
Glyniss worked quickly, stirring a small amount of potion, and rushed to the bedside. Meggie was in so much pain, it was hard for them to get her to drink it.
“Hold, lass, hold on to hope. Take this, take it now!” Glyniss ordered.
Cat helped, holding the girl’s head so she could swallow the potion. Another pain came, and Meggie bit down on the blanket to suffer through it. A few short minutes later she had another, then soon after, Cat began to see a difference in Meggie.
The drug was evident in the glazed look in her eyes. She had held herself tense as a bow string, but now she began to relax, and stopped tossing her head on the pillow.
“Glyniss, thank you,” she sobbed. Meggie’s breathing slowed, and Cat blessed the concoction that had finally given the girl some relief. Glyniss wrapped her arms around Meggie’s shoulders and kissed the girl’s forehead.
“Aye, lass, my dear, weary lass. ’Tis better?”
Meggie nodded, too weak to answer, and Cat let out a heavy sigh. The drug did not remove all the pain of the contractions, but it helped Meggie cope and allowed her to rest in between them. She even dozed at one point.
“Is it better now?” Cat said.
Glyniss shook her head. “Nay. This babe is too long coming.”
Three hours later, Meggie’s baby girl was born. Cat had taken the baby from Glyniss’ arms to wrap it in soft toweling and clean the blood from the child. Her joy at finally holding the beautiful baby girl was coupled with an intense relief that the ordeal was over for Meggie. Washing the baby, she marveled at the softness of the baby’s skin when she touched her cheek. Wrapping the little girl tight, snug and warm in the blanket, she moved to the door of the chamber hoping to take the child downstairs to meet her father.
Suddenly Glyniss screamed. “No!”
Edna had entered the chamber. Cat turned and put the baby in her arms, and turned back to Meggie, appalled. The girl was bleeding severely.
“Help me!” Glyniss said. “Push those pillows under her hips!”
Cat moved quickly to follow the orders. Glyniss pressed a soft cloth between Meggie’s legs in a desperate attempt to staunch the hemorrhaging.
“Oh, dear God,” Cat said.
“Sit with her, hold her hand,” Glyniss said. “Make her stay awake!”
Cat took Meggies hand and gripped it, looking deeply into her eyes. “Be at ease, you’ll be fine,” she said.
Meggie’s beautiful blue eyes turned doubtful. “Nay, lady. Tell … tell Douglas to forgive me.”
The blood continued to gush from the girl’s body, faster than Glyniss could blot it. It covered the bed and dripped on the stone floor.
“I won’t tell Douglas anything. You will tell him soon, when you present him his beautiful daughter. Meggie … Meggie!”
Her skin turned even paler, her blue eyes remained fixed upon Cat’s. She took a deep shuddering breath, and Cat knew she was gone.
“No, oh, God, no!” Cat frantically turned to Glyniss. There was an anger, however futile, from Glyniss, in her eyes, her body. She climbed up and over Meggie, to press her hand to the pulse in her throat. Angry tears fell down Glyniss’ cheeks, and she shook her head.
Roderic was alarmed when he saw his wife run down the stairs to the kitchens. Covered in blood, she ignored Douglas when he tried to beseech her. The young man was startled, suddenly afraid, and ran up the stairs.
Cat picked up a bowl from the buttery and hurled it against the stone wall, then turned and ran out of the keep.
“Catherine, wait!” She did not heed him, and Roderic followed.
Cat hurled herself onto the saddle of the nearest horse, put her heels into the animal’s flank, and galloped away from the keep.
Roderic rushed to find his own mount and followed. Her horse galloped hard, but Roderic paced his animal to match hers. On and on she rode, and although Roderic had the ability to overtake her and pull her from the animal’s back, he did not. He simply followed, watching her, seeing to her safety.
Finally, Cat reined the horse in and slipped from his back. She threw the reins over the horse’s neck and ran to rest underneath a tree.
Roderic was cautious when he approached her. She sat silent, dry-eyed, and the expression of pain on her lovely face touched Roderic deeply. He was concerned with the fact that there were no tears in her eyes. The pain she held fast inside her, and he steeled himself for the task ahead of him.
“The child has died?”
Cat silently shook her head from side to side.
“Meggie?”
“She’s dead.” The tone in her voice was hoarse, desolate, without hope.
Roderic sucked in his breath harshly; his fears for the young mother had proved true. He studied his wife.
“Does it not make you angry?”
Her green eyes turned to impale him. “Angry? What good would anger do?”
Roderic was loath to see the anguish Cat was feeling. It had not gone hidden, the blossomin
g friendship that Cat had with Meggie. She had found joy in the lass, worried for her health, championed her marriage, helped birth her babe, and now, must bury her. Roderic knew his lady had a deep need to embrace the grief, but she refused.
She tried to pull away when he bent down to sit near her, and he took her hands in his in spite of the blood that covered them.
“Catherine!”
“I don’t want you here, Roderic. I want to be alone! Go back to the keep!”
“Nay, love. Embrace it or no, you need me.”
Although she fought with him, Roderic continued to hold her fast.
“Are you not angry? Little Meggie, so bright, so beautiful, with all her life as a mother ahead, taken from us! Does it not make you angry?”
“At what?” She screamed the words.
Glancing down as he held her fast, he winced inwardly at her bloody hands.
“At the injustice! You sit covered in her blood; she was but five and ten summers, and now her life is over! Shake a fist at the heavens, lass! Rage if you must, but don’t hold it inside, or it will poison you! Tell me you are angry!”
Cat pulled her hands away and screamed. “Yes! Yes!”
Reaching out, she slapped his chest, though the blows did not hurt him. Then she began to fight in earnest. Using her fists to strike out, Cat hit Roderic, and he allowed it before he grabbed her arms and tried to subdue her as best he could. The anger and pain were released from her with a vengeance.
“She’s dead, Roderic! She’s dead!”
Her wrath turned to weeping, and she could no longer speak. He felt some of the grief flow from her while he continued to rock and hold her.
Cat cried for a long time, sobbing desperately. But the tears finally ceased, and she sniffled, took a deep breath, and relaxed in Roderic’s arms.
He disengaged from their embrace, walked to his horse, took a canteen of water from the animal and washed her hands clean of the blood. Bending down, he kissed her cheek, then sat for long minutes holding her.
Cat was silent when Roderic pulled her up and led her to the horses. She did not speak all the way back to the keep.
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